


Maidens of Britannia, Rise and Fall

by fictionfinding



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Disproportionate Revenge, Dom/sub, Humiliation, Kink Meme, M/M, Master/Mistress Roleplay, Spanking, mild assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:38:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionfinding/pseuds/fictionfinding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanon Maldini is not amused by all these women stalking his highness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maidens of Britannia, Rise and Fall

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't really any excuse for this.
> 
> ETA: For the wary, the assault and revenge tags refer only to plot events, not the relationship. Also, the crossdressing is separate from the humiliation kink.

To his considerable vexation, Kanon had found his workload substantially increased as of late. Not the intelligence gathering or the paperwork, no, the usual state affairs were all in hand. Rather, his workload in an unofficial capacity had changed dramatically. He wasn’t obligated to perform such tasks, per se, but he did so because, well, because no one was going to get away with stalking his highness on Kanon’s watch. 

Primarily there were three culprits: the Lady Meraud Pryce, the Lady Olive Ainsworth, and the Lady Amaryllis Teague, who seemed to have independently decided that now was the ideal time to indicate their amorous intent towards his highness through obsessive methods. Albeit, their intentions probably weren’t amorous so much as ambitious, but they created the same obstacle either way.

It started out pretty simply at first. There were things like flowers being sent to the office or his highness’s chambers, and that was okay because Kanon rather liked flowers and they freshened up the room. When they took tea at the Duke of Acadia’s manor, Lady Amaryllis was perhaps a bit overeager about serving the scones and forgetful of the fact that his highness could certainly partake of his food unaided. Lady Meraud did not show the greatest amount of discretion by asking his highness to dance with her so frequently as she did at the Winter Ball, but the dancing itself was harmless, or at least initially. Lady Olive was fairly subtle, although she did contrive to meet with the prince more frequently than could be taken as natural.

As with the story of any courtship though, their advances grew bolder over time. The note cards found among the flowers sent by Lady Amaryllis gained a decidedly salacious tone. Prince Schneizel always read the cards aloud with a vague expression and offered some neutral remark to his aide, ever diplomatic. Nonetheless, Kanon took the initiative to discreetly dispose of the cards whenever possible before they reached the prince’s attention. 

Lady Olive altogether dropped the subtlety and tried to employ the kind of tactics most often seen in romantic films, concocting ways to casually bump into the prince, literally, so as to put them in close physical proximity and possibly appear cute and hapless. At least, Kanon assumed that was the intent, but he wouldn’t be a very good aide if he couldn’t anticipate a threat, be it physical, verbal or psychological to his highness, so more often than not it was Kanon who ended up with an indignant armful of Lady Olive, except for the one case, which he felt ever so slightly bad for, when the poor woman just fell to the floor as no one moved to catch her. He had hoped it might make her reconsider her tactics because being unable to balance on your own two feet was not as attractive as she thought it was, but his highness was quite kind to her after she had taken the fall and it seemed to have encouraged her.

Lady Meraud, to all appearances, had taken a lateral approach by trying to get in the good graces of Princess Guinevere su Britannia, but wonderful woman that she was, Princess Guinevere was having none of it, and even had the courtesy to inform Kanon about it (albeit not in the most courteous way) in her brother’s absence. Kanon decided not to pass the message on to his highness, but kept the princess’s words about Lady Meraud’s scheming in mind.

But, to Kanon’s regret, it did not end there either. Each of the suitresses continued to make more daring advances, to the point where the more appropriate term for them would be stalkers. Multiple times he caught Lady Amaryllis from the corner of his eye snapping photos of the prince unawares. While a photograph or two was not inherently something to worry about, the sheer volume was becoming unnerving. Often as not she only captured blurry pictures of Kanon as he happened to step in the frame, but she was undeterred. 

He was willing to admit that Lady Meraud showed surprisingly good sense for a stalker, and was quick to endear herself to Princess Carine ne Britannia instead, granting her closer access to the prince without seeming untoward. She lavished attention on Carine and Schneizel alike at social occasions, gaining her an ally in the young princess while downplaying her behaviour as forward. Kanon could do very little about all those brief but intimate touches she gave the prince under the guise of it being “just her personality”, to his increasing chagrin. 

But perhaps the worst was Lady Olive, who, when she came to the palace, Kanon had caught snooping outside the prince’s chambers more than once. She even had the audacity to enter his rooms on one occasion, leaving behind a scented letter sealed with a lipstick kiss and a lace handkerchief with the prince’s initials clumsily embroidered on it. While these were easily disposed of, the final straw, however, was when his highness remarked that one pair of his gloves seemed to have gone missing after that incident. Earl Kanon Maldini was a man of sympathy by nature, but he took his work for his prince very seriously, and this was an incitement that needed strong redress.

The difficulty was, of course, that all three were from respectable families and there was always a risk that Kanon’s actions could reflect poorly on his highness if he were too bold. He decided on a simple but hopefully effective course, which had two intended outcomes. One was to introduce a small taste of humiliation, and the other, to introduce conflict that would hopefully distract them from their dogged and frankly unhealthy pursuit. At the soirée held for the unveiling of the new portrait commissioned by the Countess of New Grenada, Kanon took the opportunity to speak with each of the unyielding women. He singled out them out in turn, and with suggestive, submissive and secretive tones informed them of how the prince would dearly like to meet with them, privately, this very night at the appointed time, far from the hall with the intent of expressing his affection, but it must be kept very hush-hush, you know.

It was with a sprightly step that he walked back to his prince’s side, thinking that he had tidily but inoffensively made a move that ought to at least put them off for a while, and he could, for the first time in a long time, relax and enjoy his evening. He was rather fond of fine art and the countess was a connoisseur with an extensive collection. He would have stepped less lightly had he known the result of his plan. 

He wasn’t all wrong in his idea. All three women suffered disappointment, and the first and second to arrive at the boat house attached to the countess’s property were subjected to that particularly crushing moment when approaching footsteps are heard only for an unexpected nuisance to appear. It was also chilly that night, and more than a little damp so close the water. Each felt anxiety as they tried to shoo the others away while trying to hold back their secrets (for the prince’s aide had implied total discretion necessary) and they had built up a fair amount of resentment towards the other two before they finally caught on that their prince wasn’t coming and devolved into accusations against each other as they realized their rival positions. No, it nearly all went as predicted: bruised egos, ready to tear each other to shreds, shifting their focus to putting down the competition rather than continuing pursuit. When it came down to it though, the problem was that Lady Meraud was even more sensible than the Earl Maldini gave credit for. 

She had surmised from her own experiences and the ravings of the Ladies Amaryllis and Olive that in fact it was the Earl Maldini who was causing such interference in their pursuit and that this was his initiative, not the prince’s. This not only gave her hope but insight as to how best to conduct her future actions. She was certain she could outmanoeuvre Amaryllis and Olive alike, but the greatest obstacle to her winning the prince’s affections right now was his meddlesome aide, who had completely overstepped his boundaries. With her cold and sharp tongue, Meraud managed to cast the others into silence long enough to confirm her theory and unveil her strategy. 

“We’re all agreed, then, that Earl Maldini has to be put out of the way,” Meraud said, gazing at her rivals in turn.

“Agreed,” said Amaryllis.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean—” Olive began before she was silenced as Meraud halted her by a gesture with her fingers.

“I’m proposing a _temporary_ truce,” Meraud said. “We put aside our differences to remove the present obstacle first, and then you can go back to plotting against each other as you will. Whether we like it or not, he will be standing in the way no matter which of us wins, and we have more chance at striking out at him if we cooperate than if we lose sight to our petty schemes against one another. We must level the playing field in order to participate in this game.” Meraud’s words were deemed sound and even a little inspiring by the other two, and so there, in the damp of the boathouse, they hatched a plot.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when Kanon received a message from the Duke of Mercia that he had something to discuss regarding the conduct of one of their important business associates. A quick phone call revealed that the Duke was either very nervous or very excited about the news, but felt discretion was necessary and wished to communicate the important missive in person. The Duke, remarking that his lands (which abutted the palace of Pendragon at the back) were more quickly accessible on horseback rather than the highway which travelled far around his estate, made the suggestion that they meet at his stables and conduct their conversation where no one could eavesdrop. Kanon found this agreeable for it was beautiful weather, to be sure.

He knocked lightly on the door to the prince’s office before letting himself in. “Sir,” he began after giving a polite nod, “I have received an urgent message from the Duke of Mercia which he wishes to relate in person. I expect to return before very long.”

“Did he mention what it concerned?” Prince Schneizel asked as he shuffled through some papers on his desk.

“He said only that it was a delicate matter concerning one of our business associates.”

“Very well, Kanon. Do inform me once you arrive back.”

“Yes, sir,” Kanon said, and inclined his head slightly before turning to leave. 

The stable master was quick to provide Kanon with a suitable horse. He adjusted the saddle carefully before mounting the black mare. He gave the horse a moment to become used to his presence and then guided it leisurely along the foot path around the gardens, finally breaking into a canter when he reached the grassy fields. It had been some time since he had been riding, but now that winter had passed Kanon felt refreshed as he rode beneath the pale sun. The rear of the Duke of Mercia’s estate slowly came into view, demarcated by many orchards full of blossoming trees. After a few minutes he reached the stable on his property, unimpressed by the fact that the duke was not there already. Sighing, he dismounted his horse and led it inside, tethering the horse and removing the gear himself for want of a stable-hand. His irritation was growing. 

As he finished removing the last of the riding gear, he heard footsteps approaching. Before he could turn to greet them, he was sent reeling forward as he was struck hard across the back. He tried to push himself up again but another blow struck, leaving him thoroughly winded. He turned his head to see Lady Meraud, armed with a shovel, and Lady Olive, armed with rope, standing overtop of him. A swift kick coming from his blind side indicated Lady Amaryllis was standing opposite. Another blow had him doubled-up in pain, trying to remember how to breathe.

“That’s a good start,” said Meraud, setting the shovel aside with a proud look on her face. “Sit on his legs, Ollie, and we’ll get him out of those clothes.” 

The weight of another person on him did not help Kanon’s circumstances at all. In spite of his struggle, it was honestly too difficult to breathe right now, never mind to shake off three attackers at once, one with a particularly vicious kick. He could barely speak, and was well aware that if the stable was empty as the duke had proposed, there would be little point in trying. 

As soon as his coat and shirt were gone, Olive tied up his hands tightly. Where she picked up such skill was beyond him. 

“And now the rest,” Meraud said without hesitation, at which Olive had the decency to blush and Amaryllis the audacity to look intrigued as the other two removed the rest of his clothes.

Lady Olive’s look of discomfort increased as she looked at Kanon while tying up his feet. “He’s covered in a lot of marks,” she said, “I, um, don’t think all that was us.” In fact, the bigger marks looked rather systematic and the other ones, well...

Lady Amaryllis tilted her head slightly. “Oh, I definitely know where those came from,” she said in a brazen tone.

“Ew, he’s a pervert!” Olive shouted and backed away. Amaryllis shot her an amused look whereas Meraud just looked smug.

“That just makes it even better. Get out your camera,” Meraud ordered. Amaryllis rearranged Kanon so that he was sitting up, trying to hide his bound hands and feet from the view of the camera Olive had pulled out. Meraud stood behind her making recommendations on how best to pose him.

“This is your scheme, then?” Kanon said blandly, having finally regained his voice.

“It is,” Meraud said proudly.

“Blackmail.”

“Well, it’s really your choice,” she replied, as Olive snapped several pictures. “Either you stay out of our way, or these pictures will find themselves on the desk of His Majesty, Charles zi Britannia, and after becoming aware of your shameless debauchery, you will never be able to find employment in the royal household again.”

Kanon laughed derisively. “You seem to be mistaken. I am not under the employ of his majesty, and his opinion is of little consequence to me. I should, however, imagine the person responsible for showing his majesty such obscene material would not be able to avoid his wrath very long. He is not a merciful man. Your little farce is idle. I work for the Second Prince, and I know you would not dare try this scheme with him.”

“You think I would not?” Meraud asked, her eyes narrowing in determination.

Olive looked at her with a disquieted expression and hesitantly tried to speak before Meraud cut her off with a gesture.

“In fact, this is better,” Meraud said. “It’s clear that you are not going to accept our terms. By tomorrow these photographs will be in the hands of his highness who will see you for the shameful pervert you are. We’ll see how you can meddle then when you’re dismissed with disgrace. We should have thought of going straight to the source in the first place.”

“I call bluff,” Kanon replied.

“I look forward to proving you wrong,” Meraud said and retrieved the shovel, holding it menacingly for a moment over Kanon before placing it back where she had found it. “Come, ladies. Let’s leave him here as he is. Our business is done for the evening.” Amaryllis followed her, almost skipping, trying to stifle her laughter, while Olive put her camera away and shot Kanon a dirty look before moving out with her comrades.

Well, that was not how he expected his evening to be spent. Kanon started to struggle out of the ropes, which weren’t tied quite so well as they first seemed in the haze of the encounter. It still took him a good half hour before he was finally free, at which point he retrieved his clothes which were scattered about the stable. He tried to brush them off as best he could, enough to look passable in the evening light. Fortunately his attackers had kept away from his face, so that there was no visible evidence of the night’s assault. Smoothing his jacket as best he could he left the barn and made his way towards the duke’s manor, trying to walk off the pain from restricted circulation as he went. 

As he walked he took out the cell phone he kept on him at all times. The first thing he did was send Prince Schneizel a short and perfunctory text apologizing for his failure to return and informing him that he would not arrive until late and would instead report for duties the following morning. The second thing he did was call for a car to come and pick him up at the Duke of Mercia’s estate.

Reaching the front door of the duke’s manor, he rang the doorbell, quickly to be ushered into a waiting room by the doorman, while the butler provided tea and dainties in spite of the late hour. It was not long before the duke himself appeared with an excited smile on his face.

“Well, Earl Maldini! How did it go?” the duke asked.

Kanon calmly finished sipping his tea before carefully setting the cup and saucer aside. It was time to find out what he knew. “My dear duke,” Kanon began, “Although I don’t doubt your intentions, I wish to make it known that I do not appreciate deception, even if the purpose is to deliver a surprise. Our prince takes the relationship between you and him very seriously, you see, and it is founded on mutual _trust_.”

The duke looked thoroughly taken aback. “I—I am quite sorry,” he said, with an abashed expression. “I never intended to upset you. I take that it did not go well.”

“It did not,” Kanon said, locking his gaze on the duke who collapsed into the chair opposite him. “Calling me out on the pretence of business when your true motive was hidden has led to not only a most uncomfortable evening, but has wasted valuable time of mine and soured the credibility of your word.”

The duke looked unusually contrite at Kanon’s politely delivered but harsh words. “I truly am sorry. The young lady approached me knowing I was a friend, and her devotion seemed very genuine.”

“I’ve no doubt it was,” Kanon said, trying to draw more out of him. “But why on earth did you agree?”

“I guess I’m still a romantic at heart,” the duke replied with a self-deprecating laugh. “Knowing you are too busy to find your own prospects for marriage, I thought would be good to introduce you and let the besotted girl confess her feelings.” He hesitated for a moment before saying, “You’ve turned her down firmly, then?”

“A marriage with her would serve little purpose.”

“But Miss Teague has quite extensive estates and she is of considerable rank. Not to mention her passion for you. What did you find wanting?” the duke asked as he rose to pour two glasses of brandy from the decanter the butler had just brought in.

“Although I hate to besmirch the reputation of a lady, I have found her to be less than discreet in the past,” Kanon said, selecting a biscuit from the tray next to him. “And I had in fact been made aware of her intentions on previous occasions.” 

The duke let out a disquieted noise in response and handed a glass to Kanon. “I see I was quite mistaken and misled.”

“As was I,” Kanon said, just to twist the knife a little, before putting on a more jovial attitude. “Let us put this grievance aside now, and think of more pleasant things.”

“To our health!” the duke said, raising his glass to Kanon.

“To our health!” Kanon replied, mimicking the gesture, and taking a draught of the brandy. How ironic, he thought as he winced a little from the growing pain in his neck.

It was only a few minutes before the butler came to inform Kanon that a car had arrived for him. The Duke of Mercia tried to protest his leaving to no avail.

“I have lost rather enough of my evening as it is,” Kanon reminded him coolly, which cut his protests quite short. As Kanon rose to his feet the pain hit him full force and though he did his best not to cringe, the duke noticed something was off.

“Are you alright, my man?” the duke said worriedly.

“I am fine,” Kanon replied, putting up his best front. “But obviously far too exhausted to ride back. I will be leaving my mare in your stables for now.”

“Of course,” the duke said, “do not worry about that at all. I will have her returned tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Kanon said. “I bid you good evening then.”

“Good evening to you as well,” the duke replied. “You are welcome at my house any time, and I do hope I can repay you somehow for your grievances today.”

“All I ask for is your discretion and honesty,” Kanon said. “Both will serve his highness well.” With that, he got into the back of the black car, seating himself as comfortably as possible.

“Back to the palace, sir?” the chauffeur asked.

“No. I would first like to make a detour to visit Dr. Harrison,” Kanon ordered. There was no point in not being cautious.

 

It was with a very stiff and sore form that Kanon reported to work the next day, although the leeching and the medication were helping tremendously. Prince Schneizel was already sitting at his desk taking a cup of tea while revising his correspondence, clearly with the Princess Cornelia li Britannia judging by the seal on the adjacent letter. He quickly briefed the prince on all necessary items regarding current projects—including his sudden meeting with the duke, which Kanon conveyed as being founded on a misunderstanding that was quickly resolved upon discourse. The only thing lacking in this technical truth was that it left no explanation for his failure to return afterwards. It took a while for the topic to be broached, but inevitably Prince Schneizel made passing mention of it when discussing the dinner last night with the Toromo representatives concerning the new defence initiative.

“The research will be carried out as intended, and the confidentiality agreements have been filed. It’s a pity you weren’t there to speak with them given the data that you’ve collected for the project,” said the prince as he wrote his signature with a small flourish.

“Most unfortunate,” Kanon replied dutifully. “Lamentably, I was required to instead spend a very lively evening with three ladies in my acquaintance.”

Prince Schneizel did not reply to this immediately and instead directed Kanon to review the contract he had just signed and approved one last time before a copy was made for the official record. As Kanon carefully re-examined it, there came a knock on the door shortly followed by one of the stewards coming to deliver new correspondence as well as refreshments.

Sitting towards the top of the pile was an envelope with no markings aside from the prince’s name in very fine handwriting. Kanon knew exactly what the contents of the envelope were, but continued to scan through the contract, paying it little mind. He had performed his part in this affair already. Still, it was with a certain suspense he awaited for its perusal.

Finally the prince opened the letter, pulling small stack of photographs from within. As expected, his expression was impossible to read only from his outward bearing, but Kanon, being a keen observer of his highness, did note that he went very still for a few moments, before pensively thumbing through the photographs in his hands. Eventually he replaced the photographs in their envelope and set them in his desk drawer. Kanon vaguely thought to request that they at least be disposed of, but he doubted the effectiveness of making such a request. He knew his prince too intimately.

As he picked up the next letter in the stack, Schneizel began to speak. “It occurs to me that as your employer I may have been overworking you and not providing the leave time to which you are legally entitled.” Kanon raised an eyebrow at this, waiting for the conclusion. “To remedy this,” the prince continued, “I recommend that you take the next several days as personal leave to dispense of your time as you wish. You are dismissed.”

“Most gracious of you, sir,” Kanon said, as he returned the thoroughly-reviewed contract to the prince. He gave a respectful bow and made his exit. He was both relieved to have the opportunity to recover a little longer and disappointed at the prospect of having no tasks to fill his time, especially as he expected he would not be seeing his highness for the next several days. Kanon tried to keep these warring reactions off his face, but the self-satisfied smile anticipating what the end results of this whole affair would be managed to break through as he walked back to his rooms, ready to take proper rest.

It was four long boring days of rest and recovery before Kanon received a missive that he was expected that night. It seemed somewhat cruel that his highness had not come to see him before then, but he expected it was out of consideration for his health, and perhaps because he was quite occupied with other plans. Of all the things Prince Schneizel was, none of them included “forgiving”.

Along with the message was a portfolio of papers that needed his attention. He considered starting immediately on them, but as he had a fair amount of time before the prince returned from his dinner with the Duke of Acadia, he decided to spoil himself a little.

Kanon walked to his wardrobe and took a moment to gaze at its contents. He brushed his hands against the fabric of his favourite red dress, before moving it aside. He wore it far too often. He deliberated instead between two blue dresses, one with a high collar and considerable bustle, and a darker shaded dress that had a sleek look and was fringed in lace. Being practical, he opted for the latter, removing it from the hanger and placing it on his bed. He then went to his dresser, pulling out the necessary accoutrements. He quickly divested himself of his clothes and put on a more fitting pair of undergarments. He pulled out a short chemise from another drawer, shrugging it on before picking up a garter belt. Encircling it about his waist, he drew out a beautifully patterned pair of stockings, enjoying the feel of the fabric as he slid them on. He clipped them to his garter belt, making sure they would hold securely. Sloppiness was for the undignified. He picked out a nude shade of lipstick, applying it carefully before adding liner to bring out the contrast. He applied mascara and eyes makeup quite lightly, not wanting to look gaudy. The silver eye-shadow had a faint glimmer that Kanon thought particularly attractive, and accented the blue of his eyes. 

Finally he moved to the dress, carefully making sure it didn’t catch on the clips as he put it on. He looked as his figure briefly in the mirror before moving to the dresser again. He picked up one of his favourite fragrances and daubed it lightly behind both of his ears, adding some to the inner side of his elbows as well, for good measure. It had balsamic notes, slightly sweet but not overpowering. He considered his jewellery collection carefully, running long fingers against the pendants of various necklaces, before deciding against ornament. The dress was demure and required a subtle touch. He moved back to the full sized mirror, preening at the end result.

He particularly liked this dress and he had the perfect fascinator to match. Fixing it on, he arranged his hair so it fell loosely, the slight hint of curl in it helping frame his face softly. He turned in front of the mirror a few times, examining himself from different angles. On second thought he removed the fascinator, trying to go for a more natural, softer look. Elegant, feminine, coy. He put on a pair of silver heels, fastening them with care. He loved how they emphasized the curve of his legs and sharpened his posture. He admired himself in the mirror, smoothing out his dress so that it fell just so. Thrilled with the result of his work, he picked up the portfolio sitting on the desk and walked to the prince’s rooms, letting himself in without ceremony.

He was just scanning over the last document when he heard the latch turning. He snapped the portfolio closed and arranged himself to look tranquil and poised like a proper lady, turning to face his highness with a demure smile. The prince did not show any more expression than usual, but Kanon could read in his eyes a sort of feral satisfaction. Kanon was vaguely interested in what that would mean for tomorrow, but really it was the present that interested him more. 

“Good evening, your highness,” Kanon said, rising to his feet.

“Good evening, milady,” Schneizel replied, bringing Kanon’s hand to his mouth to bestow a kiss. “I apologize if I have kept you waiting.”

“Not at all,” Kanon said. He placed one of his gloved hands on Schneizel’s shoulder, fingers brushing lightly against the coat. “It’s warm tonight; let me take your coat,” he said, walking behind his prince and helping him out of his ornate white and gold overcoat.

“Indeed, I seem to have overdressed,” Schneizel said coolly, walking into his bedroom and removing his favourite tiepin and cravat, draping it on the dressing table. 

“Was your dinner with the Duke of Acadia agreeable?” Kanon asked as he carefully hung the coat in the spacious closet so that it would remain unwrinkled. He returned to the prince’s side and started removing the decorative sash that lay over his second coat.

“It was certainly productive,” Schneizel said as Kanon unclasped his belt and put it away with equal care. “Did you enjoy your time off?” 

“Your highness was very generous to give me leave,” Kanon replied, moving his hands to the buttons of the prince’s frock coat.

“And yet you sound discontent,” Schneizel said, placing his hand beneath Kanon’s chin and lifting it slightly. “Did my order displease you?”

“Not at all, sir,” said Kanon, dropping his eyes back down and deftly removing the jacket. “Simply, one realizes the value of one’s work when one’s hands are idle, and also the value of company.” After he finished hanging the coat up properly, he turned to find the prince sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Then idle hands and want of company I will do my best to remedy,” said Schneizel. Kanon smiled and moved to take a seat in the nearby armchair. “Ah-ah-ah,” Schneizel said prohibitively. “Come take a seat here.”

Kanon stood up and walked over with a slight slink to his step, one he had practiced many times when he wore these heels. “I’m not sure it’s proper for a lady,” Kanon said with a look of reluctance, standing next to his prince.

“Is it not proper for a lady to follow her prince’s orders?” Schneizel replied, taking Kanon’s arm and smoothly pulling him down to sit on his lap.

Kanon clasped his arms around Schneizel’s neck and looked into Schneizel’s unusually intense gaze. “Then what does her prince order?” he said breathily. 

“It has come to my attention that you have done several things worth admonition over the past few days,” Schneizel said as he lifted Kanon’s leg at the knee and glided his hand downward, slowly pushing off the high-heel shoe. “I would like you to enumerate all the errors I must punish you for.”

Kanon felt his blood race faster. It was hard to know what the right answers were with his highness, and under the gaze of those eyes it was too easy to admit to things that he wasn’t guilty of, which was equally punishable. “I did not adequately perform my duties on Tuesday evening,” he began, looking into the icy depths of those eyes. “I invited potential ridicule to the royal office,” he added, as the prince’s wandering hand removed the other shoe. Seeing no reaction from his highness, Kanon felt his anxious excitement build. “I let other people mark me,” he blurted out, “and I did not settle the situation by my own hand.”

“You have named many errors,” Schneizel said slipping his gloved hand up under the dress skirts, “but you are forgetting one.”

Kanon racked his mind trying to think of what he had missed. “I was unappreciative of your highness’s graciousness in giving me these past few days off.” He felt a throbbing in his groin as Schneizel’s gaze didn’t waver, still seeking a different answer. 

“Need I remind you that I will have to punish you doubly for your mistakes if you refuse to admit to them?” Schneizel said as his hand brushed against Kanon’s thigh, unclipping the stocking from the garter belt before pulling it down slowly. Kanon shivered at the feel of the soft leather of Schneizel’s gloves rubbing against his skin.

“I—I’m afraid I must disappoint you, sir,” Kanon said at last, mind stalling on other possibilities.

Schneizel pushed off the other stocking before moving his hand to Kanon’s face. “Very well then. You also failed to solicit my help during your predicament and did not inform me of the incident until the next day, and indirectly at that.” He brought Kanon’s face very close to his. “I do not like it when things that are precious to me receive injury. As a Prince of Britannia, I have a responsibility to protect the things under my jurisdiction, and you interfered with that by your silence. Fortunately, I was able to take things in hand.”

Kanon’s eyes widened at this. Coming from his highness that was almost romantic. “Then I suppose you ought to take me in hand as well. I have surely earned my punishment,” he said and leaned up to kiss the prince hotly.

“Indeed,” Schneizel replied, pulling back from the kiss, “although it pains me, I will have to make sure you are thoroughly disciplined.” He lifted Kanon from his seated position and spread him over his lap. Kanon struggled to maintain his balance, his muscles straining to keep still. Schneizel bunched up Kanon’s skirts, lifting them up to his waist so his ass was completely exposed. Schneizel chuckled and slipped one of his hands under the top of Kanon’s panties. “You won’t be needing these,” he said, pushing them down, exposing him even further. 

Kanon bit his lip in anticipation, trying to calm his breathing, when the first hit came, a loud smack ringing throughout the room. Kanon cried out softly in response, feeling the initial sting keenly before that rush of pleasure took over. Another blow fell suddenly before he had time to tense up, causing him to moan louder this time. The prince always had Kanon’s anticipation so perfectly analysed, waiting for the moment Kanon least expected the hit to fall. The next hit was lighter but left his skin tingling long after. “Again,” Kanon said pleadingly, which only served to bring the punishment to a halt. 

“I think you have forgotten your position,” Schneizel said, his voice so commanding Kanon didn’t even need to see his prince to know the imperious look in those eyes right now. Schneizel continued, “You have no right to speak out of turn. I will punish you as _I_ see fit. I will have to increase your punishment if you continue to behave shamefully.”

“Yes, sir,” Kanon gasped, growing harder just listening to that perfectly controlled voice. He wanted to rub against his prince’s thighs, but he knew that might be seen as rebellious and did his best to keep still. No sooner had he begun to worry about Schneizel’s silence and lack of action than another smack landed on his bottom, driving him forward. His highness truly was masterful at catching him unprepared. The next blow was even harder, followed by a squeeze on his ass cheek that made the pain and the pleasure mix in a befuddling haze. As the prince picked up an irregular rhythm of hard blows and tantalizing touches Kanon began to lose control, crying louder and louder and grinding his cock against the prince’s lap. He began to mumble out meaningless, barely-coherent apologies, repeating “I’m sorry, your highness” again and again in jumbled phrases.

“You force me to do this,” Schneizel’s voice cut through his cries firmly accompanied by several quick smacks. “It is for your own good.”

Kanon begged more fervently, beginning to lose count of the number of strikes he had received. He was becoming completely lost in that exquisite feeling of shame and arousal. As the intensity was reaching its peak, Schneizel’s hand suddenly stopped. 

“I think I have adequately punished you for today,” Schneizel said, massaging Kanon’s now-flushed ass gently. Kanon whimpered in response, still seeking friction against Schneizel’s thighs. Schneizel seized his hips with a punishing grip and then eased the dress back down. “I see the lesson has not been as effective as it should have,” said Schneizel, standing up and bringing Kanon to his feet. “I will have to find a way to make it stick.”

Kanon looked at him awaiting the next order, unable to get his mind off the soreness of his backside or his untouched erection that strained against the fabric of his dress. He almost smirked seeing the clearly visible tent in his highness’s pants but he froze immediately when the prince caught his eye, his gaze seeming disaffected. Schneizel waved his hand and Kanon dutifully turned around in a full circle.

“You’re wearing a beautiful dress,” Schneizel said as he watched Kanon calmly. “Get rid of it.”

Kanon quickly obeyed, unlacing the bodice with practiced skill and shifting it over his shoulders. 

“Hang it up,” Schneizel said from behind him, his mouth hovering just above his ear. “And don’t waste my time.”

Kanon scurried into action, carefully hanging the dress in the wardrobe. He paused for a moment to untie the garter-belt before moving his hands to the chemise he was wearing, about to take it off as well, but he was stopped by a strong grip on his wrist. 

“Leave it,” Schneizel said, his other hand reaching down to grope Kanon’s sore ass. Kanon reacted with desire immediately, but this only led Schneizel to back away. “Stand in the corner,” Schneizel ordered, moving to sit on the armchair. Kanon obeyed, facing the wall, trying to tug the chemise down further to cover himself to no avail.

“Look at you,” the prince spoke, words echoing across the large room. “Your ass is so red from my _tender_ care. Can you feel it still? You like a firm hand, don’t you? You need someone to keep you in line because you’re such a naughty girl.” 

Kanon swallowed thickly as he listened to his prince’s monologue, unable to think of anything but the residual warm and tingling feeling in his ass and the hypnotic power of the prince’s voice.

“Imagine if someone were to come into this room right now. They would come in to announce an urgent matter of state, only to see you standing there against the wall, ass bare and flushed with colour from my ministrations, wearing nothing but a flimsy chemise, so transparent you must have worn it because you wanted everyone to see you like this. Ashamed of your desire to expose yourself completely, you cling to this worthless piece of modesty that still reveals everything to them. If they saw you they would know just how bad you’ve been. You would feel their judgement and ridicule for a lady who cannot do as she’s told.”

Kanon heard the sound of movement behind him, but did not turn around. His face was burning red with humiliation from his highness’s words, while his erection still throbbed unattended, aching with desire. The prince moved closer to him, his voice sending shivers down Kanon’s spine.

“But then, you’re not a lady, are you? A lady wouldn’t take pleasure in her wrongdoing. A lady wouldn’t take pleasure in being thrown over her master’s knee and spanked until she couldn’t take anymore. A lady wouldn’t take pleasure in the thought of someone other than her master seeing her naked and wanton, flaunting her ass, just waiting to be filled by a man—any man. A lady wouldn’t do that, but you are not a lady...” Schneizel said, brushing his lips against Kanon’s ear. “You are a _whore_.”

Kanon squeezed his eyes shut at that, trying to quell the intense shudder going through his body. He didn’t know how much more of the prince’s words he could bear before his body would respond involuntarily, sending him into climax without even being touched, as shameless as his highness said. His prince always chose his words so perfectly. Thankfully Kanon’s torment was cut short as he moved away again.

“Remove that and get on the bed,” Schneizel ordered. Kanon turned to look at him, a half-dazed, half-pleading look in his eyes. “Did you mishear what I said?” Schneizel asked, cocking his head slightly. Kanon shook his head and took off the last of his clothes before hurrying over to the wide bed, awaiting further orders. He arranged himself to look as seductive as possible, wanting to tempt his prince. Schneizel, however, simply remained where he was, removing first his footwear and then walking over to the vanity to remove his gold cufflinks. Even stripped down to only his dress shirt and pants he looked every inch the White Prince, a dazzling and commanding presence.

At last his highness came to the bed, slowly raking his eyes over Kanon’s body as if evaluating whether he was worthy of his attentions. Kanon perked up hopefully as the prince cupped his face, pressing his thumb between Kanon’s lips, still wearing those sinfully teasing leather gloves. Kanon bit the tip of his finger lightly, using his teeth to remove the glove from one hand and then the other. The prince’s bare fingers brushed lightly against Kanon’s mouth and Kanon flicked his tongue out, trying to entice his highness further. In response the fingers were moved away, still stroking lightly across his face but never long enough to linger. 

“You want something more in your mouth, don’t you?” Schneizel said.

“Yes,” Kanon answered, voice barely above a whisper. Schneizel merely sat back in response, waiting for Kanon to act. Kanon’s long fingers made expert work of the buttons on his pants, pushing down the smooth fabric and undergarments beneath just far enough to bare the prince’s prominent erection. 

Schneizel’s hands tangled in Kanon’s hair, massaging his scalp briefly before forcing his head down close to the tip of his erection. “Suck,” Schneizel ordered. 

Kanon obeyed immediately, licking the hot arousal a few times before taking it deep into his mouth, using his tongue to increase the prince’s pleasure even further. Schneizel’s hands gripped him hard, forcing him further on the prince’s large cock. Kanon began his ministrations in earnest sucking hard and bobbing up and down, trying to stimulate the prince in any way possible. He could taste the prince’s pre-cum on his tongue and shivered at the ache in his throat as he took his cock as far in as he could.

Schneizel moved his hands from Kanon’s hair, placing one against his shoulder to steady him as the other took hold of one of his arms. Schneizel traced Kanon’s forearm lightly before grasping Kanon’s hand and bringing it up to his mouth. He drew those fingers into his mouth, sucking on them. Kanon jerked instinctively as Schneizel bit down on his fingers lightly but did not stop, continuing to use his mouth to stimulate Schneizel’s hard cock. After thoroughly slicking up Kanon’s fingers, Schneizel pulled them out of his mouth. “Finger yourself while you suck me,” he commanded.

Kanon obeyed, trying not to squirm as he pushed his fingers inside him. Looking at his highness’s possessive expression spurred Kanon on further. He hummed around the prince’s erection, trying to push him to orgasm with only his mouth while simultaneously stroking his fingers inside himself. 

“You want me to come in your mouth,” Schneizel said, a question that was not really a question, and which Kanon did not have to answer. Kanon’s expression and actions were quite telling enough. In the next moment he was pushing Kanon off of his length and towering over him. “No,” he said simply. Kanon removed his fingers from himself and kneeled in front of Schneizel with a pleading expression. He was clearly over-stimulated by their evening’s events, and Schneizel would have to be careful to keep him from getting too close to the edge. Like chess, this was a game of strategy.

“Please, sir,” Kanon said, flushed and sweaty and desperate for the next order.

“What are you asking?” Schneizel said, leaning in close. “Are you asking for sex? To be filled up and pleasured by a man? A lady who thought such things would bring disgrace to her family and herself.”

“Please,” Kanon responded, burning with shame. “Please fill me. Use me. Take me as your own.”

“Do you think you deserve to be my own?” Schneizel asked.

Kanon shook his head furiously. “No, sir. I deserve nothing but what you give me. If you won’t have me as your mistress, take me as your whore.”

“Good girl,” Schneizel said, moving away. “Since you’re so wanton for it, you’re going to ride me.”

Kanon nodded his head fervently and moved to straddle his prince, positioning Schneizel’s arousal at his entrance before sliding down, moaning unrestrainedly at the satisfying ache of being stretched. He began moving his hips, wincing as the prince’s hands moved to his still tender ass, stroking and squeezing it. It reminded him of his earlier punishment and went straight to his cock.

Schneizel gripped him tighter, purposefully leaving slight bruises on his pale skin. “If you don’t please me, I’ll throw you out on the street for other men to use,” he said as he watched Kanon ride him. “But I suppose you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” Kanon moaned out between sharp thrusts, “only this. I want only you.”

“Your body says otherwise. It’s so wanton and greedy; if I left you like this, you’d beg any man to fill you.”

“None could like you. My body is greedy for your big, thick cock. No one else could fill me like this.”

“Filthy lies,” Schneizel said, bucking up hard into Kanon. Kanon nearly screamed with pleasure, once again on the brink of orgasm, when Schneizel reached his hand to his arousal and gripped it hard, preventing him from coming. 

Kanon whimpered in response. His eyes flew wide open as the prince let go of his arousal and lifted him off. Surely his highness would not leave things there? The prince twisted one of Kanon’s arms firmly, pushing him face down into the mattress and climbing on top of him. 

“You don’t come until I say you do,” Schneizel said in an imperious tone, pushing back in roughly. 

Kanon moaned loudly, overwhelmed by the feeling of his prince thrusting inside him as he tried to hold himself back from coming, drowning in the feeling of complete arousal and utter subjugation. His free hand clawed at the sheets as his pleasure spiked with each thrust. He began to plead once more, rambling incoherently.

“Please, master. Please...harder, more, let me...please...”

Schneizel released his arm and slid his hand down to Kanon’s erection, stroking it firmly. “Do you promise to behave from now on?” he said in a deep voice, losing control of the cool, unmoved facade to the passion of the moment. Kanon couldn’t even respond beneath him. Schneizel continued to drive forward into him as he leaned down and whispered sinfully in his ear. “Then come, my princess.”

Kanon practically screamed as his release came, like thunder crashing through him, only vaguely registering the matching tide of his prince’s climax as his senses clouded with pleasure and bliss that had been too long denied. He could feel nothing outside of such satiation.

It took longer than usual for Kanon to compose himself. The post-orgasmic haze remained heavy on him, and his body felt lethargic. Not to mention there was a resurgence of aching from his earlier wounds, now muddled with more recent ones. Prince Schneizel lay opposite him, and seemed equally spent by their activities. His beautiful golden hair was damp with sweat but made him look no less godly and austere. Despite the effort it would require, Kanon brought his heavily lidded gaze to match his prince’s and asked, out of consideration, if he should return to his rooms.

“Don’t be foolish,” Prince Schneizel said, curling his fingers through Kanon’s hair and brushing straying strands away from his mouth, “You couldn’t walk like this. And there’s no need to be so cold. Stay.”

Kanon smiled sleepily, pressing his head against Schneizel’s throat. “I’m back to work again tomorrow, right?” 

“Of course. I’ve been missing my aide.”

“Excellent.”

 

Business resumed as usual in the following days, which naturally included keeping an eye to the rise and fall in fortunes of the Britannian gentry. It seemed that the latter was the order of the day, for the most part. The ongoing sex scandal involving Lady Amaryllis and several male staff both currently and formerly employed by the Teague household was all anyone cared to gossip about for some time, not least because it appeared the Duke of Acadia hadn’t been aware of what had been going on under his roof until the tabloids broke the story. The outraged and ashamed duke had promptly shipped his daughter off to Area 6 to board with his sister there, a dour woman who no doubt would keep a strict watch. His prompt action served him well as the misfortunes of another family drew the unwanted attention away, for indeed the Ainsworths were beset by misfortune.

The Earl Ainsworth had been brought before the Emperor and his favourite courtiers, purpose unknown, only to be subject to accusations of selling false documents of Britannian citizenship to those willing to pay for them. The Emperor stripped him of his title on the spot (which, to be fair, was rather lenient considering the emperor’s views on race and natural dominance), and revoked his rights to his ancestral estate. This disgrace unfortunately led to a very public confrontation with the former earl’s wife upon her discovery of this turn of fate. In their mutual outrage, the longstanding affair she had been having with the Marquise Trengrove was revealed and feeling a change in the wind and a definite lack of shame, she subsequently ran off with him. Deeply embarrassed and shocked, the former earl and his only daughter left town immediately, although whatever their living was these days, it was no doubt accommodated by his ill-gotten wealth.

The luck of the Pryce family seemed to only worsen over time. A delay in shipments of goods had led to the loss of a valuable trade relationship that the duke had worked quite hard to forge. Although finding a buyer was certainly not difficult, when the shipment arrived, much of the produce had spoiled, leading to considerable monetary loss. The delay, though harmless in and of itself, sparked a more thorough examination of the records regarding the duke’s reporting of shipments and resulting payments of duty and taxes, which were revealed to be quite lean. It also so happened, as this information began to surface, that the many debts the duke had made against the value of his shipments were called in, one after the other, leaving the Pryces quite destitute and embroiled in scandal. Insult was added to injury when the son, serving in the military in Area 9, was dishonourably discharged on counts of bribery, and the fate of the family seemed very bleak. It was most fortunate, then, that the Lady Meraud had received a generous and compelling offer of marriage, and could thereby restore her family. Her new husband was of no status to speak of, but was quite wealthy and wise with money. Prince Schneizel regularly engaged him for business purposes, and Kanon thought he would provide for her and her family fittingly. It unfortunately cost her the society of Princess Carine ne Britannia, as her drop in rank was considered unsuitable, but she’d have little to complain about, other than his boorishness and the little room for social climbing. Actually, Kanon conceded, she’d have a lot to complain about.

Kanon was drawn from his thoughts as the prince flipped past the marriage announcement in the paper to the following article on developments in sakuradite-fueled weapons advancements in Area 11. He had already read of it and had many proposals ready for delivery, so for the moment Kanon’s attention rested instead with those long fingers swathed in a new pair of leather gloves that Kanon had bought as a gift to replace the ones that had so unfortunately gone missing.

Victory was indeed quite sweet.


End file.
